


Backflips

by Valnixyrie



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Gymnastics, Mutual Pining, Post-Divorce, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:00:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22997323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valnixyrie/pseuds/Valnixyrie
Summary: “Well this is a side of you I’ve never experienced, Mrs.Barnum,” a familiar voice chimed in from a few feet away. The bitter smell of cigarette smoke hit her nostrils at that moment. The blonde spun around to find, perched on the stone wall that lined the stairs, none other than--“Anne… what-- I’m sorry, I didn’t realize anyone else was out here,” Charity said, dumbfounded at best. “What, um... What are you doing here?”The younger girl smirked and took a drag of her cigarette, blowing the smoke in the opposite direction. “It’s weird, right? I can actually leave the gym.”Charity blushed and looked away, “That’s not… I didn’t mean it that way. I just… I’m not used to seeing you in--”“Leather and fishnets?” Anne supplied through a grin.“Well, I was going to say ‘in public’ but I suppose the former also applies…”Or...Charity is suddenly really distracted by her kids' gymnastics instructor. Anne is equally infatuated with the single mom of two of her students. Both of them are useless and definitely pining. Lettie just wants them all to get their lives together.The gymnastics/single-parent AU that absolutely no one asked for.
Relationships: Charity Barnum/Anne Wheeler
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	Backflips

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, hi, hello! There's a hellacious lack of F/F stories for this fandom that don't involve a gender-bent Philip Carlyle so I sat my happy ass down for several days straight and popped out a whopping 14k one shot! Charity/Anne dynamic was just too tempting. I low-key have a plot for another one Ft. Jenny Lind (because who doesn't want a F/F/F 18th century OT3?). I'll probably write it whether this gets love or not, to be real. Anyway, enjoy!

“Phineas, you cannot possibly be serious,” Charity gaped at the man standing across from her. The pair stood a few feet apart on the balcony of Phineas Taylor Barnum’s extravagant New York loft. Below them, the city hummed with life, cars breezing by in the streets, and patrons washed in the countless colors illuminating from billboards and gargantuan screens.

“Come on, Charity,” the brunette man chided enthusiastically, his eyes sparkling the way they always did with a new adventure. “It’s only for a few months. I’ll be back before you know it and the money I make off this tour…” he paused, dramatics in full effect, “the girls would never want for anything again.” 

Charity Barnum steered her eyes to the light-polluted night sky above them, begging the smog to deliver some semblance of a solution for her. When none came, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “And what do you propose I do for childcare when you aren’t here? I _work_ , Phin, full-time now. I’m not your housewife anymore, I can’t just drop everything so you can go on another world-wide escapade. Who’s going to pick the girls up from school on Tuesdays and get them to gymnastics on Thursdays, you know I work late those days and…”

P.T. surged forward a few steps and took the blonde’s hands in his, hopeful smile never fading. “I’ve already figured that out,” Charity met his eyes with reluctance as he continued, “Lettie said she’s more than happy to pick the girls up on Tuesdays. I already spoke to their gymnastics instructors as well and they’ve agreed to pick them up from school on the days they have lessons. You’ll be off work by the time they’re finished and can get them on your way home. It’s perfect!”

“Phineas…”

“Charity, please. Look, I’ll do this tour and be back before Caroline’s recital in the fall. I promise, it’ll be worth it. Just trust me.” He held her hesitant gaze, his expression that of a hopeful child. Charity knew that look and she knew it well. Hell, she was married to it for more than a decade before she had enough of its evident inability to care about anything beyond itself. Twelve years she waited for Phin to be satisfied and happy with what he had but he would never be fully sated. That’s why she knew she had already lost. 

She sighed, relenting. Knowing he’d won, P.T. laughed in triumphant glee and sprung forward to engulf his former partner in a hug. Charity couldn’t help but laugh a bit. She’d always had a hard time saying no to the man (it was almost as difficult as saying no to their children).

“Ha, ha! Yes! Oh, Charity Barnum you are magnificent! Ah, this is why I married you!” He loosened his grip on the woman.

 _And why I left you,_ Charity thought to herself.

* * *

A week had passed since P.T. had left for his world tour with Jenny Lind. Lettie had, of course, kept her word on picking up Caroline and Helen from school the following Tuesday. Charity didn’t honestly expect any problems there. After all, Lettie had always been family to her and the girls. When she and Phineas had split, the older woman had been a tremendous source of support for both herself and her daughters. 

The only thing that made her a bit uneasy was the idea of the gymnastics instructors transporting the girls from school to the gym. Charity knew P.T. was compensating them extra for the effort and she knew they were people that he trusted whole-heartedly but she had never met them herself. 

Gymnastics was Phin’s idea and when he’d brought it up last year, she’d agreed under the condition that it would be his responsibility. She had enough on her plate with work and Caroline’s ballet lessons and Helen’s after-school rehearsals at the community theater. Surprisingly, he had held up his end of the agreement. He picked them up from school every Thursday and took them to the gym where he stayed and worked on minor business calls and emails until they finished and they spent those nights with him. Then Charity would pick them up the following afternoon from school. It was a routine they had down to a science and it worked well for everyone. In all honesty, the blonde had never even set foot in the gymnasium. She had of course attended competitions and the like but those were all held off site. 

The first Thursday went as well as it could. Charity left work around 6:30PM and arrived in the gym’s parking lot right at 7PM. The girls exited the building almost immediately, bounding over to their mother’s car and babbling happily about their day. 

When asked about their ride after school, Helen replied simply, “Anne picked us up! She plays cool music and her car is really cute.”

“Yeah! It’s really little and bright red!” Caroline added. 

“She said W.D. will probably get us next week. I asked if he played cool music too but she said he’s too lame,” Helen continued. Charity nodded along with a chuckle. She’d heard the instructors’ names mentioned before. Anne and W.D. Wheeler, if she remembered correctly. She noted the last name and off-handedly wondered if they were married or related but shrugged it off. Phineas had encountered them through the performance art grapevine and said they were the best in the business. She thought he had mentioned they had a history of trapeze, even, which was uncommon but mildly intriguing. She made a mental note to do some research on the duo when she had some free time. _Ha. Free time._ She laughed to herself, her children’s chatter becoming white noise in the back seat, as they made their way home. 

* * *

Charity exhaled deeply as she turned her car’s engine off. She sat for a moment, resting her forehead against the steering wheel, reveling in the silence that engulfed her. Two weeks had passed since Phineas had gone on the road. Things were running as smoothly as they could, she supposed, all things considered. Everyone was still adjusting to the change but that was to be expected. 

She took a few more seconds of serenity for herself before exiting the vehicle and making her way up the sidewalk, stairs, and finally through their red front door. She dropped her keys in the bowl that sat on the table just inside the door. Her mind wandered aimlessly as she entered the kitchen, switching the light on and sinking into one of the four identical chairs that surrounded their turquoise-painted kitchen table. 

_Three months,_ she repeated for what felt like the hundredth time that day. _You were basically a single mother for years, this isn’t any different. Three months._ Her eyes drifted to the growing stack of unopened bills on the granite counter. She glared at the paper envelopes, wishing she could set their contents ablaze with the intensity of her stare. 

Her futile attempts were interrupted by a jarring noise from her jacket pocket. She fumbled around in the material for a moment before retrieving her seizing phone. She furrowed her brow as a number she didn’t recognize appeared on the screen. 

“Hello?” She spoke into the device, sliding her finger across the screen to answer the call.

“Mrs. Barnum?” A smooth voice sounded from the other end. 

“Yes, who am I speaking with?” Charity replied. 

“Hi, this is Anne Wheeler from Carnival Gymnastics,” the voice said back.

Charity felt her entire body go cold, the color draining from her face immediately. She glanced at the calendar above the kitchen trash can to her left and pressed her hand to her forehead, squeezing her eyes closed as it hit her.

“Oh my god, it’s Thursday,” she muttered exasperatedly. The person on the other line chuckled lightly, a sound that was somehow feminine, breathy, and throaty all at once. Under different circumstances, Charity might have thought it pleasant. At that moment however, she felt nothing but exhaustion and a twinge of frustration with herself, rising to her feet and hurrying back the way she had just come, snagging her keys on her way and flitting back out the door. 

“Yes ma’am, it is Thursday. Would you like me to give the girls a lift home?” The woman— Anne, Charity reminded herself— offered politely. 

“No, no, I’m getting in the car right now. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes; twenty, tops. I’m so sorry about this,” Charity groaned, embarrassed, as she turned her key in the ignition, bringing the car back to life. 

“It’s really no problem, Mrs. Barnum. Mr. Barnum mentioned you were quite a busy woman, I truly wouldn’t mind driving them home, for what it’s worth” Anne assured her. 

Charity sighed, “You must think me a terrible mother, forgetting my own children for god’s sake.” 

Anne laughed, “No ma’am, no judgement here. You have my word. I admire you, truly. It takes a strong woman to raise children but it takes a beast to raise them on your own. I know it must be hard not having Mr. Barnum even in the country right now.”

The blonde was floored, for lack of a better word, by the other woman’s words. So much so that she was rendered speechless. It wasn’t until Anne cleared her throat through the phone that she returned to reality. 

“I apologize if that was out of line,” Anne said, sheepishly. 

“No, no, it wasn’t, at all. I appreciate that, really. You’re very kind, Ms. Wheeler. Thank you for everything you’re doing for my girls. They talk about you constantly, they love you.”

“Please, call me Anne, Ms. Wheeler is my grandmother,” she laughed again before continuing, “I love them too, though. They’re incredible young ladies, I’m sure they come by it honestly,” Anne spoke.

Charity paused again briefly. _Is she…? Was that flirting?_ Surely she imagined that. She really needed to catch up on sleep. 

“Well, I’ll let you get back to driving,” Anne said, something in her tone a bit different than it had been moments before but Charity couldn’t place it. “The girls will be here, we have to clean up before we lock up anyway, so no rush.”

“Thank you, once again I am so sorry. It won’t happen again, I promise,” Charity said. 

“Don’t worry about it, really. Drive safe, we’ll see you when you get here. Goodbye, Mrs. Barnum.”

“Goodbye, Anne.”

Ten minutes later had Charity flying into the parking lot on two wheels. She didn’t even bother with a parking spot, the lot was empty anyway, stopping right in front of the gym’s entrance. She cut the engine and yanked her key out in the same second before whirling out of her seat and through the door. 

She followed the signs through the lobby, passed the vacant front desk, and into the main part of the building. Her eyes fell on her girls flopped on the mats that covered the floor, already changed into their clothes to go home, laughing hysterically with a man Charity assumed to be one of their instructors.

As she entered the space, before she could say anything, Caroline caught sight of her. “Mommy!” The eldest of her two daughters shrieked as she shot to her feet and sprinted into Charity’s open arms.

“Hey, baby!” she replied with a grin, squeezing her arms around the child, who was quickly accompanied by her younger sister. “Oh, I’m sorry I’m late!”

The girls pulled back, “It’s okay, we got to help clean up.” Helen said excitedly.

“And W.D. told us a bunch of funny stories about Anne, too!” Caroline snickered, high fiving the man in question as he approached.

“Well, alright then, it sounds like you had a lot of fun! Go on and grab your stuff, I’ll meet you by the front doors in just a second,” Charity said to her daughters, kissing the tops of both of their heads before turning her attention to W.D.

“Nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Barnum. W.D Wheeler,” he extended his hand, which she took without hesitation.

“Charity, please, pleasure to meet you. Thanks for letting them hang out here and thank you so much for picking them up from school for class, I really appreciate the help. Phineas kind of sprung his trip on me last minute, no surprise there, so I didn’t have much time to prepare. It’s all a bit of an adjustment but you and your...wife?” She trailed off curiously.

W.D. laughed, “Sister. No worries, happens all the time,” he clarified. 

_Sister, huh? Good to know,_ Charity mused.

“Yes, well, the two of you have been a huge help these past few weeks, I can’t thank you enough, really,” she said before continuing hesitantly, “I don’t suppose your sister is around, is she? I’d love to meet her as well, thank her too, you know.”

“You just missed her, actually, sorry! She’s filling in for an injured performer out of state this weekend and has to be on the road early tomorrow so she headed out earlier than normal,” the man eyed her curiously. The blonde tried to contain her sudden disappointment. “She’ll be back for next week’s classes though, I’m sure she’d love to meet you next Thursday.”

“Great!” Charity replied, trying not to sound too eager. “Well, I’ll let you get home. I’d better go feed those two before they eat my car.”

“Sure thing, Mrs. Barnum. See you later.” W.D. waved as she retreated back the way she came, collecting Caroline and Helen at the entrance. 

* * *

Charity smiled to herself as she pulled the gym’s front door open and stepped inside. It had been a week since she forgot to get the girls from class but she had miraculously gotten off of work early for once so she planned to make up for that by watching the last hour of their lesson.

She made her way through the facility until she reached the open expanse of the mats again and maneuvered her way to the benches positioned along the wall where other parents watched on with interest. Taking a seat at the end of the first bench, she turned her attention to the practice floor.

A group of about fifteen children around her daughters’ age were scattered throughout the room, all practicing different skills and tricks and tumbles. She scanned the area, searching for a familiar face. Her eyes found W.D. first, off to the far right side of the room, guiding a young boy through some complicated-looking routine on the balance beam. She kept looking and found Caroline next, practicing handstands with another girl with dark hair and pale skin. She smiled fondly, watching her daughter encourage the other student through the process.

Her gaze finally landed on Helen, near the back of the room with a smaller group of about three of four other kids. They all sat on the floor with their legs folded beneath them, watching their instructor with unwavering focus. That was when it clicked. _The instructor._

Charity felt her chest tighten as she honed in on the woman across the room. She was too far to make out what she was saying but she didn’t have to hear her voice to know that she’d recognize it. She watched the girl gesture with her hands as she spoke to the kids, her expression friendly but serious, clearly in the process of explaining something to the youngsters. She knew immediately that she was looking at Anne Wheeler. 

The blonde lost track of how long she stared. It was mostly curiosity at first, to be fair. But that curiosity shifted into intrigue when the woman moved to demonstrate whatever she had just been explaining to her students. Charity watched mesmerized as Anne’s lithe form took off across the length of the mat. She seemed to glide through the air, weightless and effortless in her craft. She landed a few flips and twists in the air that Charity would most certainly kill herself doing if she tried. The entire routine took what was probably only a few seconds but felt like ages as the blonde watched it unfold in slow motion.

Anne completed the demonstration flawlessly, turning back to her pupils and giving them a dazzling smile as they clapped and cheered for her efforts. Charity nearly fell out onto the floor at the sight of that smile from across the room, lord only knows what would happen if it were directed at her.

_What on earth is happening to me?_

Charity rose from her place on the bench and fled the scene. She felt the heat on the back of her neck rising to her cheeks and her breath came quicker than she liked. She scoured the halls for the nearest source of water, pushing a bit clumsily through the door to the women’s restroom. She paused, placing both hands on the ceramic sink and staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was flushed and her pupils were blown wide.

She huffed out a breath and leaned down to splash some cool water across her skin. After taking a moment to compose herself, she exited the bathroom and returned to her seat in the gymnasium. She managed to make it the rest of the hour without incident, partly because she consciously avoided looking in the direction of a certain instructor who will remain unnamed.

When class was dismissed for the evening and parents began packing up their children, happy conversation filled the room. Helen was the first to see her mom, a look of sheer delight breaking across her features as she crashed into Charity’s side.

“Mommy! Were you here the whole time? Did you see my back bend?” She squealed excitedly.

Charity laughed, “I did, it was awesome!”

“Anne says I’ll be able to do a back walkover soon!” Helen continued.

“Does she now? That’s really cool, sweetie!” She ran her fingers through her youngest’s curls. “Why don’t you go get your sister and you guys can start packing up so we can go home and eat dinner, okay? I’m thinking pizza!”

“Okay! Caroline, mom’s here!” Helen ran off and started chattering amicably with her older sister. The darker haired girl waved emphatically at her mom, receiving a wave and smile in return, before trailing after Helen into the dressing room. 

“Hey, you made it!” A deep voice sounded from Charity’s left. She turned to greet W.D., his grin bright and friendly. 

“Hey, nice to see you again! Yeah, I ended up getting off work early so I thought I'd surprise the girls, see what all the fuss is about here,” she joked lightly. 

W.D. dabbed a cloth across his forehead before draping it haphazardly over his shoulder. He stood with his hands on his hips. “Well, did we live up to the hype?” 

Charity’s eyes flitted reflexively in Anne’s direction, where the woman in question was busy folding up extra mats and leaning them against the back wall. “Yeah, absolutely! I get why the girls are always so tired on Thursdays now, too!” She did her best to mask her brief glance, hoping she wasn’t noticed. If W.D. had seen it, he was polite enough not to say anything about it.

“Yeah, we put them to work, that’s for sure. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, Mrs. Barnum! I’d better go help clean this place up so I don’t face the wrath of my sister later. Have a nice night,” he shot her a charming smile before wandering off across the room.

Charity found herself seeking out the captivating woman again. She wasn’t sure where the sudden attraction (read: obsession) was stemming from but she didn’t dare try to dissect it yet. Instead she chose to watch, as the girl continued stacking mats against the back of the room, her skin slightly glowing even under the harsh fluorescent lighting, her toned muscles moving and shifting as she lifted the heavy equipment with ease. 

The blonde did her best to take in her features across the distance that separated them. Her complexion was warm and soft, her expression focused. Her brow was furrowed and she clenched her jaw as she heaved the last mat into position. Her eyes were deep, full of stories and life and things Charity was suddenly desperate to uncover… and they were looking right at her.

Her own eyes widened and she looked away quickly, pretending to be doing something constructive (definitely not staring at her daughters’ gymnastics instructor, no, that’d be weird), wishing to be literally anywhere else at that moment. She caught a glimpse of a satisfied smirk creep onto Anne’s features before ripping her gaze away.

Thankfully, her children chose that exact time to emerge from the changing rooms and bounce into place at her side. She felt a small breath of relief leave her lungs. That relief was so very short-lived, however, when Caroline’s next words were, “Mommy, come on, you’ve got to meet Anne!” _Shit._

“Okay, honey, that sounds great,” she tried her best to keep her voice from wavering, doubting her children would be paying enough attention to notice anyway. Helen and Caroline each grabbed a hand and dragged her to the back of the room. She felt herself begin to sweat and the back of her neck heated up again.

“Anne!” Helen called as they approached. “Anne, my mom is here, you have to meet her!”

The taller woman turned around with a ready smile on her features but faltered visibly when she came face-to-face with Charity. Something unreadable crossed her expression so briefly that the blonde almost missed it entirely. She schooled whatever it was almost immediately as she extended her hand to the girls’ mother.

“Pleasure to meet you in person, Mrs. Barnum,” Anne’s familiar voice spoke evenly, as charming as her smile.

Charity somehow managed to get herself together enough to speak like a normal human being. She took Anne’s outstretched hand in hers, trying to ignore the tingling feeling that shot through her fingers at the contact, and replied kindly, “The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Wheeler. I’ve heard so much about you, I honestly feel like I’m meeting a celebrity.”

Anne ducked her head a bit at the comment before withdrawing her hand. So what if they maintained the handshake for a little longer than they probably should have? “Now, I know I asked you to call me Anne, Mrs. Barnum. And thank you, that’s very kind. We have nothing but love for these girls around here,” she cast her gaze to Caroline and Helen, ruffling Helen’s already tousled locks and causing her to scrunch up her nose.

“Well, then I insist you call me Charity, in that case,” the blonde countered, placing a hand lightly on Caroline’s shoulder.

“Yes, ma’am,” the brunette replied back.

“Mom, can Anne come get pizza with us?” Helen turned her wide eyes on her mother, hopeful as always. She’s certainly her father’s daughter, in that respect. 

“Oh, no, I couldn’t impose. I’ve got a lot to finish up here anyway and an early start tomorrow,” Anne deflected immediately. Charity sensed her anxiety and gave her an out.

“And you have school tomorrow, remember? Maybe one weekend soon, okay?” She winked at Anne who seemed grateful for the save.

“Aw man. Okay,” Helen replied with a pout.

“Alright, you two, let’s let Anne get back to work,” Charity said, urging the girls in the direction of the door.

“Have a good night, girls! I’ll see you next week,” Anne smiled at the pair, waving as they turned away.

“Bye Anne!” Caroline called.

“Bye Anne!” Helen echoed before turning to her sister. “Race you to the car!” She shouted, taking off across the room at a full sprint.

“No fair, you cheated!” Caroline whined as she bolted after her.

Charity chuckled at their antics, shaking her head, before turning back to the gymnast. Anne’s eyes locked with hers intently, an innocent curiosity lurking behind the surface but an undeniable intensity right there beside it.

“Have a good night, Mrs. Barnum,” she said, her voice a octave lower. Catching the blonde’s disapproving brow raise, she smiled again, clearing her throat before correcting herself, “Charity.”

The older woman flashed a smirk in return, “Good night, Anne.” She turned slowly and made her way back across the room. When she reached the doorway into the lobby, she glanced back over her shoulder. She felt a jolt in her stomach when her eyes met with Anne’s again and felt her cheeks flush before ducking out the door.

* * *

Anne woke up to her phone blaring from her nightstand. She squinted at the screen.

“Who the hell… ” she stared at the caller ID for another ring before groaning and answering the call. 

“Hello?” She knew her voice was thick with sleep but she didn’t care. It was one in the morning. 

“Anne?” A surprised voice replied. 

“Who is this?” Anne was getting more aggravated by the second. 

“It’s— it’s Charity. Charity Barnum,” the voice said. The brunette suddenly felt significantly more awake, sitting up slightly. 

“Mrs. Barnum? Is everything— are the girls okay? What’s going on?” Anne questioned rapid fire into the phone. 

There was a pause, some shuffling on the other end of the line. “Everything’s fine, but, why are you answering the phone? Do— do you live at the gym?” Charity said after a second. Her words slurred just barely at the end of the question. Anne wondered if everything was _truly_ okay; Charity Barnum didn’t strike her as the “ _drinks alone”_ type. 

Anne’s brain tried to compute what the other woman had just said. “What, no, I don’t live at the gym. Why would I live at the… never mind,” she shook her head, “what can I do for you, Mrs. Barnum?” 

“ _Charity_ ,” she emphasized, “It’s just, it’s late and you answered the phone. I was planning on leaving a message and thought you’d just listen to it when you got there tomorrow but… you answered, so,” she trailed off.

Things slowly clicked into place in Anne’s brain. “You do know this is my cell phone number, right?” She mused.

“It… what? No, oh my goodness! I am so sorry, Anne! I thought this was a business number, like for the gym! Oh, gosh, I’m sorry! I just woke you up, I’m the worst!” Charity flew into a panic. 

Anne just laughed, “It’s okay Mrs. Bar- Charity,” she caught herself. “Don’t stress about it. What can I do for you, since I’m here?” She stifled a yawn. 

“It really wasn’t that important, honestly. Helen left her gym shoes there on Thursday and I was going to see if I could swing by and get them sometime Monday afternoon,” the blonde’s words rushed together, clearly nervous. “They have tutoring for an hour after school so I actually have a small window of time before things get crazy.”

“Yeah, you can swing by Monday. I have a gap between two of my classes on Mondays, so aim for around 4:30 if that works for you?” Anne offered, her voice coming out even more raspy than usual. 

“Your voice is so nice…” Charity mumbled softly through the phone. Anne faltered for a moment, unsure if she heard that correctly, but any doubt was shaken away by the blonde’s immediate reaction. 

“Oh my word, I’m sorry. I, um— yes, 4:30 Monday sounds perfect. Thank you, so sorry again for disturbing you. Goodnight Ms.Wheeler— ah, Anne, er… goodnight.” Charity fumbled through her words in a panic. 

Anne grinned, amused by the clearly tipsy woman in her ear, “Goodnight, Mrs.Barnum.”

* * *

**"** _Fall in and fall away_

_This love is in retrograde_

_Fall in and fall away_

_I can see the darkness_

_Manifest”_

Anne floated around the vast expanse of the gym’s floor, the heavy beat of the music dropping as she flew into the air, rope twisted securely around her waist. There was nothing she loved more than having the space to herself. It happened so rarely, she reveled in it when she could. She left the lights dim, bar the spotlight W.D. had installed last summer for a local competition. She turned and contorted her body, hovering above the ground, as the song shifted into a lighter melody.

“ _Gravity_

_I pull on you_

_Close enough to rendezvous_

_You come to me and then you slip right through_

_I’m in the solitude”_

She glided through the air, her body flowing like water with the music. 

_“Why’s it always touch and go?_

_No one ever really knows what it’s like_

_Left me in the afterglow_

_'til I’m falling through space and time”_

She inhaled smoothly as she let go of the rope and spun all the way down, halting feet from the ground. She began twirling around the mats, tucking her body in on itself and flipping across the room confidently. 

_“Starlight, star bright_

_You’ve got your missiles flying through the air tonight_

_And it’s alright, alright_

_I think I’m getting used to the fire fight”_

She maneuvered an elaborate spin in the air and landed in an almost warrior-like stance with both feet firmly on the mat and her hands clenched into fists as the songs chorus struck up. She grabbed the rope again and was sent soaring through the air.

_“Cause you fall in and fall away_

_This love is in retrograde_

_Fall in and fall away_

_I kind of think you like this_

_Regress”_

It was as if she were running on air, circling the space her tether would reach. Nothing could touch her there.

_“Fall in and fall away_

_There’s something in the hate we make_

_Fall in and fall away_

_I can see the darkness_

_Manifest”_

She landed solidly back on the mats, breathing heavily as the song continued. Her eyes focused on the doorway and met with the brown irises of Charity Barnum. She stopped her routine and felt her face break into a genuine smile as she trotted over to the bench where she’d left the speaker remote. Turning the blaring song down to a more appropriate level, she turned on her heel and greeted the blonde still standing in the door.

“Hey! You’re here,” Anne said happily, her breathing only the slightest bit labored from her workout as she spoke. Charity seemed frozen for a moment, eyes wide with awe and jaw slack as she looked back at the taller woman. She composed herself rather quickly, however, shaking her head and taking a sharp inhale.

“Yes, hi. I am,” Charity replied, becoming more aware of herself. “I uh, I already grabbed Helen’s shoes. I was about to leave but heard the music and got curious,” she admitted sheepishly, tucking a strand of golden hair behind her ear and averting her gaze to an unspecified spot on the floor. “You’re quite good,” she finished, her voice barely above a whisper.

Now it was Anne’s turn to blush and look away in embarrassment. Sure, she was plenty used to receiving adoration and praise when it came to performing. She was one of the best in the country, if not the world, certainly the best in the state. She had spent her entire life perfecting her craft and it absolutely showed. But this attention was different. Something about the way Charity’s cheeks flushed and she ducked her head when she said it had Anne’s stomach doing somersaults as serious as the ones she had been doing only moments before. 

“I’m alright, I guess,” she replied in an uncharacteristically low voice. 

Charity placed a hand on Anne’s forearm, drawing her eyes back to her own. “You’re incredible,” she said, never breaking eye contact. The intensity of the moment sent a shiver through Anne’s body. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

She was breathless for a moment. “Thank you,” was all she could muster. Charity let her hand fall back and Anne immediately missed the contact. 

Both women jumped as someone cleared their throat from the door. 

“Mrs. Barnum,” W.D. said, a smirk clear on his features, as he entered the room. “You’re here so much lately we might as well add you to the payroll,” he joked. 

Charity blushed deeply, having snatched her hand back when he appeared. “I, ah, I came to get Helen’s shoes that she left here and saw Anne practicing. I got a little distracted on my way out,” she admitted quietly. 

“Did you need something, W.D.?” Anne’s voice was sharp as she spoke. Charity looked up to see the taller woman glaring cold daggers at her brother, who stood stretching against the bench beside them.

The man in question smiled innocently at her before replying, “Just wanted to run routines with my favorite sister, is that not allowed?” 

“I’m your only sister and I was completely fine on my own, as I am _every_ Monday at this time. So why are you really here?” She sneered, her eyes narrowed venomously.

He seemed unfazed, “If I’m interrupting something—“

“No, not at all,” Charity spoke up, still not making eye contact with either of the siblings. “I was actually just leaving, I have to be back at school to get the girls from their tutoring session. It was nice seeing you both again. Have a good evening.”

“You too, Mrs. Barnum!” W.D. said cheerily.

Anne didn’t say anything, just watched the blonde exit the room. When she was sure the other woman was out of earshot, she turned on W.D. who seemed to have suddenly realized the error of his ways, if his expression was any indication. 

“What the _hell_ was that?!” She spat, stalking toward him. 

He held his hands up in defense, a nervous smile making its way to his face. “Hey, now. I didn’t know she was in here, honest. I really was going to ask you if you wanted a spotter, but…”

“But _what,_ W.D.?” The girl, a whole head shorter than him, hissed. 

W.D. shrugged, “You guys seemed pretty cozy there sis, that’s all. You sure you know what you’re doing?”

Anne rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. “You don’t know what you’re talking about and you didn’t see shit. Mind your business,” she muttered. 

“If you say so,” he said back, an impish grin creeping back onto his face. Anne huffed before spinning on her heel and storming out of the space, leaving him to his own devices. 

* * *

Anne did not see Charity the following Thursday, not even when class was over. It put a sickening feeling in her stomach. Anxiety settled in the back of her throat and made a home there. Her chest felt tight all day and night. She hated it.

She spent the entire session waiting for it to be over so she could walk out with Caroline and Helen to meet up with their mother. Only to be met with the girls’ semi-regular babysitter, Lettie. She couldn’t bring herself to ask where the blonde was, telling herself it wasn’t her business anyway.

Later that night, sitting up in bed alone, she tapped her phone screen nervously. She had typed and re-typed a message at least thirty times and had yet to actually hit _send._ She was legitimately beginning to feel crazy at this point. It’s not like the older woman owed her any sort of explanation for why she wasn’t there today. It’s not like she was meant to keep her updated on everything happening in her life. So why did Anne feel so slighted? 

She went to sleep that night with a message draft pending but never sent, lulled to sleep by her own overthinking and racing thoughts.

* * *

“Mother, I still don’t understand why you need _me_ to be there with him? Why can’t you go?” Charity all but whined indignantly into the receiver as she stood in the kitchen chopping the last of the carrots to go into their dinner.

“Because, dear, I have to go with Mrs. Winthrop to her son’s banquet this weekend. It won’t kill you to make an appearance for your father’s sake,” her mother chided back through the phone.

Charity sighed. “Fine,” she relented after a pause. She set the knife in the sink and dumped the chopped vegetables into a pot of broth on the stove. “I’ll see if Lettie can watch the girls but if she can’t, Father will have to find someone else to accompany him. What time do I need to be there?”

“Thank you, dear. This will mean the world to him! He really does miss you, you know,” Charity rolled her eyes. She knew better. Her father was a heartless bastard who only cared about appearances and social and financial status. Her mother continued, “We’ll send a car to get you around 5 o’clock. Dress nice, it is a ball, after all.” 

“You know, mother, believe it or not, I do know how to fit into your society. I just choose not to,” the blonde replied defiantly.

Her mother sighed, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Charity was once again grateful for her children’s impeccable timing as the girls burst into the kitchen squealing.

“Yeah, I know mom, listen I’ve got to go, the girls are here and it’s hard to understand anything you’re saying. I love you, I’ll be ready by 5PM tomorrow, okay? Okay, bye mom,” and with that she hung up the phone. She loved her mother, she really did- her father too. She just hated acknowledging the parts of her that came from their privilege and going to boujie balls and banquets was _definitely_ one of those parts.

“Mom, when’s dinner going to be ready?” Caroline asked through her sister’s giggles, drawing Charity out of her own head.

“Soon, baby. Go get your pajamas out so you can shower and get to bed after we eat, okay? I have to make a phone call. The girls stampeded back out of the kitchen and up the stairs. “No running up the stairs, you sound like a herd of elephants! Girls!” The blonde huffed in defeat and shook her head as she covered the pot and set the stove to a simmer. 

She moved into the living room and pulled her phone back out, pulling up Lettie’s contact icon and hitting the _call_ button. Her closest friend answered after two and a half rings, always right there whenever Charity needed her.

“Well hello there, Sunshine,” Lettie’s cheerful voice sounded through the phone. “What can I do for you on this magical Friday evening?”

Charity laughed lightly. “Hi, Lettie. I hope I’m not interrupting your evening…” she started when the other woman cut her off with a bark of laughter. 

“Ha! Yeah, how dare you, interrupt my third hour of binging _The Bachelor_ , what kind of monster are you?” Lettie laughed again.

The blonde rolled her eyes at her friend’s antics, “You know you could always come do dinner with us, you’re always welcome here.”

“Nah, I’m good here. I like my me-time every once in a while, you know?”

Charity hummed in silent agreement. “Well, listen. I hope this isn’t too short notice or asking too much, but my mother kind of sprung this on me. You wouldn’t happen to be available tomorrow night to watch the girls, would you? My father needs someone to accompany him to this god awful banquet, ball, whatever tomorrow night and apparently I’m the only viable option at this point,” she sighed, still a bit frustrated and highly dreading the idea.

“Girl, do I seem like someone who has plans on a Saturday night? Of course I’ll watch them,” Lettie replied swiftly.

“Are you sure? You just kept them last night, I don’t want you to feel like I’m taking advantage of you,” Charity trailed off.

“Charity Barnum, you listen to me,” Lettie scolded, causing Charity to clap her mouth shut. “You work hard to keep those girls fed, clothed, happy, and healthy. If that means asking for help every once in a while so you can finish projects late at work or be arm candy for your father at some fancy party, then you do it and you do it without shame. Do you understand me? The only response is ‘yes’.”

The blonde smiled. She loved this woman like a sister, truly. And she definitely delivered on the _sister_ pep talks when they were needed. “Yes,” she said back.

“Alright then. What time do you need me tomorrow? Do I need to pick up dinner on the way?”

“My parents are sending a car at 5 so maybe aim for 4:45? And no, I’ll leave money for pizza and rent a few movies for you to choose from. You’re more than welcome to stay in the guest room, I don’t know how late I’ll be out,” Charity concluded, picking absentmindedly at a frayed spot on her jeans.

“Sounds good to me. I’ll see you at 4:45 tomorrow. Get some rest, Cher,” Lettie said, her voice softer than it had been previously.

Charity hummed again, “I’ll try. I appreciate you more than you know. One day maybe you’ll even let me pay you for all the babysitting.”

“Fat chance! Goodnight, girl.”

“Goodnight, Lettie.”

* * *

Charity held her breath as the car her parents sent for her pulled to a stop in front of a massive, lavish hotel in the heart of the city. Her heart thudded in her chest as the driver opened the door to let her out. There was a reason she stopped coming to these things. She absolutely abhorred them with every fibre of her being. The uppity inhabitants, the unreasonably upscale attire she was forced to wear, the fake small talk she had to endure with people she simply did not care an inkling about…. She hated it all. 

She braced herself as she pulled the hem of her floor length evening gown a few inches from the ground to keep it from dragging as she ascended the stairs. Once she reached the top, she dropped the fabric from her fingers and made her way through the door held open by a dapper footman.

She followed the signs through the elegant lobby and into the ballroom where the event was being held. She felt several pairs of eyes on her as she made her way through the throngs of people in search of her father. She knew she looked good, she wasn’t an idiot. Her deep, soul-crushing blue dress glimmered under the lights in the room, the strapless sweetheart neckline plunging down her chest and exposing her shoulders and back. The short diamond necklace her father had gotten her for her 30th birthday adorned her neck, sparkling almost as bright as her dress, shown off by the graceful, swooping up do she had twisted her hair into.

Like she had told her mother: she knew how to make appearances at these things. She just hated doing it.

Eventually, she did manage to find her father. The bitter old man was surrounded by a group of his high-class “friends” as they all droned about things Charity couldn’t have cared less about. She approached him and slid her arm into his, placing a light peck to his cheek.

“Hello, father,” she greeted. She immediately felt every man in the circle snap their hungry eyes to her body. She suddenly felt the need to cover herself in as many layers as humanly possible. Maybe the strapless dress wasn’t the greatest idea after all.

“Ah, Charity! How kind of you to join us,” her father said, snide as always. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. “Gentlemen, allow me to introduce my lovely daughter, Charity.”

She nodded politely and pretended to listen as he went around the group and introduced each member, explaining every useless thing they’d done “for society” as he went. She felt her mind wandering as he went on. Her thoughts flew almost instantly to the spirited gymnast who seemed to be occupying her mind more often than not lately.

She felt a pang of guilt as the woman’s face entered her consciousness. She really should’ve at least texted her the other day to let her know she wouldn’t be seeing her, but she’d somehow talked herself out of it. It’s not like Anne really _cared_ whether she was there or not. They weren’t dating or anything, she didn’t even know if they would count as friends at this point. So why did she feel some unspoken obligation to contact her? Pushing the thought from her mind is what had ultimately kept her from doing so in the first place but now the guilt of not doing it was seeping in and--

“Charity,” her father’s voice pulled her from her mulling. “Did you hear me?”

“Hmm? Sorry, I was a bit distracted,” she replied honestly with a friendly smile. The men chuckled unnecessarily around her. She hadn’t said anything laughable, but I guess that’s what you do when you’re in your late sixties and are incapable of seeing women as anything beyond pretty adornment.

Her father sighed, “I said, Mr. Carlyle has a son around your age. Now that Phineas is out of the picture, we should put you two in touch with each other. Philip produces plays, he has a very promising future on Broadway,” he concluded.

Charity’s blood began to boil. She felt her face reddening further with every word her father spoke. She bit back the venom she so desperately wanted to spew in his smug face and the faces of all the black-coated sheep he kept around. She painted her most practiced smile on her features and steadied herself before responding.

“How very nice for him,” she began, making sure she kept her tone level. “I believe I’ll have to pass though, thank you. I’m quite enjoying my time by myself, as it turns out. More attention to focus on my children, I’m sure you understand father,” she bit back elegantly.

Now it was his turn scarlet. “Charity, dear, you’re not going to be young forever. Surely you don’t want to spend the rest of your life alone? The children need a father--”

“My children _have_ a father,” she interrupted. All thoughts of remaining diplomatic disintegrating before her. “They have a wonderful father regardless of whether he and I are in a partnership or not. Honestly, that’s more than I could’ve said for myself at their age,” she sneered. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I need some air.”

She was met with baffled expressions and speechlessness as she detached herself from her father’s arm and started for the door near the back of the grand room that led to the gardens. She stopped, however, when a thought crossed her mind. Turning on her heel, she let loose one, final statement that she knew could quite possibly be the severing blow for her and her father.

“And, for the record,” she said, “I don't plan on spending the rest of my life alone, I'm sure _Anne_ will keep me plenty of company for a good, _long_ while.” Not waiting for the reaction she was sure would be unpleasant, she turned back around and made her way out of the ballroom, a satisfied smirk plastered across her face as she exited through the gauty doors.

All the adrenaline flooded out of her astonishingly quickly however as soon as she hit the brisk air outside in the garden. She waited for the door to shut behind her before clasping her hands to her face and releasing a frustrated growl. How _dare_ he put her in that position. How on earth could he ever think something like that even neared the realm of appropriate? She was fine-- _beyond_ fine caring for her girls on her own. And, so what if she was unattached? Since when had she ever needed anyone else to get by? Okay, so maybe invoking Anne’s name was taking it a touch too far, but if nothing else, she might have cleared up the fog in her mind of what she wanted with the younger woman. _Ugh_ , but to bring all of that up in front of his smarmy friends… despicable. 

“Stupid, entitled, disgusting, bastardized, walking piece of patriarchal _shit_!” She shouted at the sky. She growled again, though this time it was more like a groan, and stomped further down the steps into the beautifully lit, green landscape. 

“Well this is a side of you I’ve never experienced, Mrs. Barnum,” a familiar voice chimed in from a few feet away. The bitter smell of cigarette smoke hit her nostrils at that moment. The blonde spun around to find, perched on the stone wall that lined the stairs, none other than--

“Anne… what-- I’m sorry, I didn’t realize anyone else was out here,” Charity said, dumbfounded at best. “What, um... What are you doing here?” 

The younger girl smirked and took a drag of her cigarette, blowing the smoke in the opposite direction. “It’s weird, right? I can actually _leave_ the gym.”

Charity blushed and looked away, “That’s not… I didn’t mean it that way. I just… I’m not used to seeing you in--”

“Leather and fishnets?” Anne supplied through a grin.

The blonde took this as an opportunity to actually note what the girl was wearing. She was right in her description. She had ripped fishnet tights tucked into a pair of loved Dr.Marten boots. Distressed black denim shorts and a loose red tank top adorned the rest of her body. A tight, black leather jacket completed the ensemble. Her brown hair fell in messy waves and curls over her shoulders. The cigarette she held loosely between her fingers somehow just _worked_ with everything else she had going on. Charity got a bit lost in the sight before shaking herself back to reality.

“Well, I was going to say ‘in public’ but I suppose the former also applies…” she turned away, her alabaster skin nearing the same shade of red as Anne’s top. Something in the other woman’s head clicked watching the blonde struggle. _Oh. OH._ Suddenly, a lot of things made sense.

“Likewise, Mrs. Barnum,” Anne dragged her gaze over Charity’s figure. “About the ‘not seeing you in public’ thing, obviously. Though, that dress…”

The blonde felt her eyes on her but it didn’t feel anything like the attention she received from the men inside. No, this attention made her feel warm, excited even. This attention made her _want_ to show off rather than cover up. Anne subconsciously pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and Charity felt a surge of electricity shoot through her entire body. Did it just get like, a hundred degrees warmer outside?

She made eye contact with the girl still perched precariously on the ledge and took a few steps in her direction. “Thank you,” she said softly. She knew she was blushing at this point, there was no denying that. She fidgeted with some of the sequins at her waistline. “And, erm… if you insist on calling me by my last name, it’s Ms. by the way.”

Anne gave her a puzzled expression. “Hmm?”

“Ms.… I’m divorced,” Charity clarified moving closer to the ledge, “Mrs. Barnum was an idiot stuck in a daydream who believed that selfish people could change. She was quite wrong. So… it’s _Ms._ Barnum, now.” She sighed, now only a few feet from where Anne sat.

“My apologies. I’d met the girls’ father on a number of occasions and you share a last name. I shouldn’t have assumed…” 

“No harm done. I just never went through the process of changing it back. Besides,” she mused, thinking back to the situation that waited for her on the other side of the hotel doors, “my father is honestly worse than my ex-husband, so I stuck with the better of two evils, I suppose.”

“Mmm,” Anne hummed. She took another long drag of her cigarette, leaving them in comfortable silence.

Charity eyed the stick in her grasp, ultimately deciding tonight was to be a night of _fuck it_.

“Do you mind if I…?” The blonde nodded at the cigarette.

Anne smiled a bit. “Not at all, be my guest.” She extended her arm, offering the item in question. 

Charity closed the distance between them and leaned casually against the ledge, leaving only centimeters between her bare shoulder and Anne’s knees that dangled off the concrete. She took the cigarette, muttering a quiet, “Thank you,” before taking a drag of her own.

“Yeah. No problem…” Anne got lost watching the older woman’s plush lips curl around the filtered end of the cancer-stick. She wondered what they’d feel like against her own lips, her neck, her shoulder, her--

“You know, I don’t even smoke. This is the first time I’ve even touched one of these things since Phin and I split,” Charity said, blowing smoke through the lips Anne was definitely not staring at. She laughed bitterly. “I guess tonight gave me just the right amount of stress, huh?”

“I don’t smoke either,” Anne said through a chuckle as Charity handed her the cigarette back. “I stole these from a friend before I dipped out of his shitty punk show a few blocks over. I always see people smoke with their angst in movies, figured I’d give it a shot.” She laughed a bit heartier at the irony of the situation.

Charity joined her in her laughter, “And did it live up to the expectation, Ms. Wheeler?”

“Not at all,” Anne said, laughing harder still. “It tastes pretty nasty, actually.”

Before they knew it, both women were clutching their sides. They didn’t even really know what they were laughing at anymore but it felt good, whatever it was.

Anne slipped forward a bit and lost her balance, sliding off the edge of the wall. Charity was quick on her toes, however, and grabbed her around the waist to steady her and keep her from falling. The brunette blushed deeply, usually the very definition of grace, poise, and elegance, but here she was, _literally_ falling into the arms of a pretty girl.

The two met each other’s eyes, four pools of warm brown locking together for what seemed like hours. Charity’s expression softened and Anne noticed her gaze flicker briefly down to her lips and back up to her eyes before mirroring the action herself.

“So, _Ms_. Barnum,” she husked out, her voice barely above a whisper. The two moved impossibly closer to each other. “Are you going to tell me what the fuss was about… and why you’re so dolled up?” 

“Maybe later,” Charity muttered as she moved to close the distance between them completely.

“Charity Hallet!”

Both women sprung apart like a shock had gone through them. Charity stepped wrong and landed with her heel on the edge of the bottom step, twisting off the edge and bringing her gracelessly to the ground. Anne was at her side in an instant, making sure she wasn’t injured. Her father, however, the source of the intrusion, seemed to care less for her physical well-being and more for fear of his own social decline at her hands.

“What on _earth_ has gotten into you, child?! Your mother and I raised you better than this! How _dare_ you speak to me that way in front of a room full of people! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were-”

“ _Hey_ !” Anne barked, effectively cutting Mr. Hallet off mid-rampage. He stared dumbly at the girl crouched beside his daughter, as if he just then noticed her presence. “Look, I don’t know you, but I’m taking from context clues that you’re Charity’s father. Now, I don’t know exactly what happened in there, but whatever it was, I can _guarantee_ it does not warrant you speaking to your _daughter_ in the manner that you currently are,” she rose to her feet, standing to her full height of five feet and ten inches. “She is a human being, not your built-in, biological punching bag,” she spat. Charity at this point was flabbergasted from her place on the ground, staring up as the girl above her continued to defend her. She came to her senses, watching her father turn nearly purple in anger, and pulled herself up to stand beside Anne, who continued her rampage.

“Furthermore, we were in the middle of a conversation, so if you’d be so kind as to excuse us, I’m sure Charity will talk to you when she is ready,” the brunette concluded. Mr. Hallet did not say a word as he huffed and retreated back into the hotel. Charity was stunned, as she watched the woman beside her in awe. She tuned in closer however and noticed that the girl was shaking a bit, her shoulders quivering just barely and her jaw clenched as she tried to steady her breathing. 

The blonde reached down and laced her fingers between Anne’s. The younger woman still wouldn’t look at her. She inhaled a calming breath and in a surge of confidence, pulled the brunette into her side and wrapped her arms firmly around her torso. Anne’s stopped breathing heavily then. In fact, she seemed to stop breathing entirely. 

It was a moment before she returned the embrace, reaching her hands up tentatively and placing them lightly at the small of Charity’s back, before tucking her nose into the blonde’s neck and finally relaxing. The pair stood like that for longer than either anticipated but neither wanted to break apart. It was comfortable and warm and safe there, in their little bubble in the garden. 

“Thank you,” Charity mumbled into Anne’s curls. She smelled of sandalwood and roses and the slightest hint of cigarettes. It was deep and earthy and sensual and grounding and surprisingly feminine, just like her. Charity _loved_ it. 

“I’m sorry,” the girl said back, her voice cracking a bit. Charity pulled back to meet her eyes.

“What on earth for?” She asked, truly lost. Anne’s eyes were wide and distant and it worried her. 

“That… that was your _father_ I just told off. I probably just made things a million times harder for you, Ms. Barnum and-“

“Anne Wheeler, if you call me Ms. Barnum one more time, _I_ am going to be the one telling _you_ off,” Charity interrupted. “For the hundredth time, call me Charity, especially after you just became my knight in shining leather and fishnets.” The blonde smirked and tucked a brown curl behind one of Anne’s ears. 

“ _Charity_ , I’m sorry. My point still stands,” Anne smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“I’m telling you, my father is a royal ass. Who do you think my shouting was about when I came out here? He’s a pompous bigot and he deserved every word that you so valiantly threw at him, honestly,” Charity reassured her. 

Anne met her eyes, finally. Both seemed to be searching for something nondescript in the other’s irises. 

After a moment of silence, Anne finally spoke up. “Would you like to get a drink with me?”

Charity’s mouth fell open. She resembled a fish, the way her jaw gaped incredulously at the other woman. Anne simply raised an eyebrow at her and let her trademark smirk slide back into place.

“I, I’m...uh...yes,” the blonde sputtered out (sort of).

Anne’s grin broadened, “great! This hotel has a rooftop bar; it’s a great view of the city at night.” She started toward another door across the garden, presumably one that would take them back to the lobby and _away_ from Charity’s father and his friends. 

Charity faltered, gripping Anne’s wrist and pulling her back. “I, uh, wait, Anne,” she said, still not entirely sure of herself. “I do, I do want to get a drink with you but…” Anne’s face fell as soon as the B word left her mouth. “Just not tonight. I have to get home to the girls, Lettie is watching them and I need to let her go home and get some rest for herself.”

“Right, yeah,” Anne replied, dropping her hand back to her side and bringing the other one up to rub the back of her neck anxiously. “No, I totally get it! Don’t worry about it. Next time,” she said, smiling at Charity but still not meeting her gaze. 

The blonde stepped forward, into her space again. “How about this,” she said, taking Anne’s hand back into her own. “Thursday, after class, you come home with us. I’ll make dinner, we can all eat together, then you and I can have a glass of wine on the porch and… talk. I’d love to know more about you?” 

This time the brunette’s eyes found Charity’s and her smile was sincere. “I think I’d love that,” she said genuinely. 

“Great. I guess I’ll see you Thursday then,” Charity said softly, returning her smile and withdrawing her hands. She leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Anne’s cheek. The younger girl felt her eyes flutter closed at the contact and when she opened them again, Charity was gone. 

“Yeah,” Anne said into the empty garden, touching her fingertips to the ghost of charity’s lips on her cheek, her own lips quirked up at the corners in a contented smile. “See you Thursday…” she echoed. 

* * *

Anne was practically vibrating as she entered the gymnasium on Thursday. After her experience with Charity the previous Saturday, she couldn’t wait to see the woman again. Especially under the premise of dinner and drinks. The pair had been texting on and off sporadically for the past few days but nothing committal; just a few hello’s and the occasional “hope your day is going well” or “can’t wait for Thursday”. Even those made Anne’s heart flutter, though.

The day seemed to drag on longer and slower than ever before. She had to force herself to not check the time every other second. By the time three-thirty rolled around, she was all but bouncing on her toes as she shot out the door and into her little red MINI Cooper. How she managed to not get a speeding ticket between the gym, Caroline and Helen’s school, and back was beyond her, but she somehow pulled it off. 

Even that class felt like it lasted an eternity. The girls chatted happily and excitedly, planning their evening with their favorite instructor. The overall energy was light and cheery. No one noticed when W.D. slipped away to answer a phone call. No one noticed the shift in his mood or the stoic expression he wore for the rest of class.

It wasn’t until the session was over and the other students had left that he pulled Anne aside.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” He said, keeping his voice low. His sister finally keyed into his abnormal behavior and her brow furrowed with concern.

“Yeah, come on,” she said, leading him into the small office attached to the main room. “What’s going on?” She asked, closing the door behind them.

His expression remained unmoving. “Sit down,” he instructed.

“W.D., what is it?” Anne pressed, concern now clinging to her words as she leaned against the old wooden desk in the middle of the room. “You’re scaring me.”

Her brother took a deep breath and looked at the floor. “You need to not freak out, we have a responsibility right now, remember that. Charity Barnum was in an accident.”

Anne felt all of her insides convulse. She felt bile rising in her throat and the room began shaking-- or maybe that was her, she couldn’t tell. Her breathing picked up in speed and intensity and the tips of her fingers started throbbing from how forcefully she gripped the edge of the desk. Everything around her became white noise, nothing felt real.

“Anne,” she barely registered W.D. 's baritone voice as he rushed to her side and placed his hands firmly on her shoulders. Ducking into her line of sight and forcing her to look at him, he continued, “Listen to me! She’s okay, she’s fine. They’re taking her to the hospital to make sure that nothing internal is going on but they said she’s going to be fine. Lettie is on her way there now but she asked us to take the girls home and get them fed and keep an eye on them. Anne! I need you to _breathe_.” 

Only then did she realize how light headed she was beginning to feel. That was slightly relieved as she sucked in a huge gulp of air, realizing she’d apparently been holding her breath after the initial hyperventilation. 

She took a few more breaths, holding onto her brother’s wrists on her shoulders to steady herself, before gasping out, “She’s okay?”

“She’s okay,” he said again.

“She’s okay,” Anne echoed. The world slowly stopped spinning and she felt her pulse calming.

W.D. sighed, “This is why I didn’t tell you when Lettie called me an hour ago. I knew you’d lose your shit.”

She felt a pang of annoyance that he waited so long to tell her but that could be dealt with later.

“Listen, I know you’re freaked out and I am in no way trying to make light of that or what you’re feeling here,” he continued, reaching for a box of tissues from a shelf against the wall and passing them to her, “but you need to pull yourself together for the sake of Caroline and Helen. They cannot see you like this in this situation. They need to be able to look at you and feel safe right now.”

He was right. If this was scary for her it was going to be downright terrifying for those children. She took a steadying breath and nodded, taking the offered tissues from W.D., which she hadn’t even realized she’d needed until now. Apparently she cried during panic attacks-- good to know.

“Okay,” she said with a little quiver in her tone, “go clean up. Send the girls in here when they come out of the dressing room and I’ll tell them. Once you pack up we’ll load them up and get them back to the house. You drive though; I can put on a brave face but I really don’t want to drive right now, especially not with Charity’s children in the car,” she concluded.

W.D. nodded wordlessly and gave his sister a squeeze before exiting the room. A few minutes passed before Caroline and Helen appeared in the small space. Telling them went as expected: a lot of confusion and worry from their end and a lot of comfort and reassurance from hers. She stayed in the office with them until the other students had been picked up and the gym was vacant, then the trio joined the older Wheeler in the main room so Anne could help finish helping him clean up.

Once all the maintenance was said and done, everyone piled into Anne’s little car (mutually agreeing Anne would stay at the Barnum house until Charity got home and W.D. would take a rideshare back to his apartment once the girls were fed and asleep) and headed to Charity’s house.

Anne felt a sense of numbness settle over her once they got to the house. Lettie had told W.D. where the spare key was hidden on the porch and had been so kind as to order Chinese takeout to be delivered to the house for them so they didn’t have to worry about dinner. W.D. put a movie on in the living room for the girls and by that point, Anne had slipped into full autopilot. 

The kids curled up on either side of her on the couch and were asleep before the movie was over. W.D. carried them to bed when the credits began to roll. He stayed with her through an episode rerun or two of House M.D. before bidding her goodnight after making sure she was truly okay. She assured him she was fine, just worried about Charity, and convinced him to go home and get some rest.

Try as she might, she couldn’t bring herself to eat anything much less focus on the television. She flipped the screen off with a sigh and moved all the leftovers into the fridge. She poked aimlessly around the common areas of the house for a bit, smiling at photos of Charity and the girls displayed in every room. Some of them laughing, others smiling curtly, others making silly faces at the camera. After exploring as much as she felt comfortable without invading Charity’s privacy, she grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and resorted to simply waiting on the stairs. 

She made her way to the split-level entryway by the front door, sinking down into the middle of the steps. She thought back to the weekend prior and the butterflies that had taken up seemingly permanent residence in her abdomen, courtesy of one Charity Barnum, as she let her mind wander and her eyes drift shut.

* * *

“Lettie, you really don’t need to take me home. I’m perfectly capable of calling a Lyft,” Charity insisted again, her voice hoarse from the evening’s ordeal.

The older woman barked out a laugh, “That’s hilarious, Cher really. You should get into stand-up, you’d make a killing!” 

Charity rolled her eyes as the pair exited the hospital. She’d never admit it, but she was very grateful to _not_ have to call a Lyft. The idea of spending upwards of thirty minutes in a car with a stranger after being in a car accident was the exact opposite of what she wanted to be doing. Her body ached, she could already feel her neck stiffening and shoulder bruising. 

Her right side was virtually unscathed but her left was a bit worse for wear, to say the least. The skin covering her collar bone was inflamed and tender. Her left cheek was literally sewn back together in one place thanks to some misplaced window glass. The other car had come out of nowhere in that intersection. It was entirely their fault. Being T-boned was one of her worst nightmares. She was just grateful that her children had not been in the car.

Once loaded into Lettie’s Cadillac, the two sat in comfortable silence for the first few minutes of their drive back to Charity’s house. She took the moment to escape into her thoughts. She made a mental note to call Phin in the morning and fill him in on what had happened. She wondered how the girls took the news or if anyone had even told them. She figured that Lettie had called the gym to let them know what was going on and knowing the Wheelers, at least one had likely volunteered to watch them.

The Wheelers. Anne. Her heart fluttered in her chest when the girl invaded her mind. How had she reacted? Was she worried? Did she care? Charity felt a pang of guilt for wondering such things, feeling a touch selfish, even. Anne had no moral obligation to her, really, but she couldn’t help but hope at least part of her cared.

“What has you so distracted over there, huh?” Lettie’s voice pulled her from her mulling. She turned her eyes from the passenger window and made a real effort to actually focus on her best friend who had quite literally come to her rescue tonight. 

“Nothing, just thinking,” she responded nonchalantly.

“About the Wheeler girl?” Lettie finished with a smirk.

Charity’s comically wide eyes snapped to her friend’s face instantaneously. How did she know? She hadn’t said a word to anyone about her feelings for Anne. Hell, she had barely admitted them to herself. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised, really. Lettie had always known her better than she knew herself, most days.

She cleared her throat and tried to focus on the road or her fingernails or the floor or literally anything other than the grinning face of Lettie beside her. “What do you mean, what about her?”

“Oh _come on_ ,” Lettie replied in a tone drenched in disbelief. “Charity Hallet Barnum, do not even begin to act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“Well, I _don’t_ know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh, sure. I’ve seen the way your face lights up when you talk about her and how you suddenly become extremely interested in the ramblings of your children when she gets brought up in their conversations,” the blonde was certain every inch of her face was beet red as Lettie chided her. “Oh, and don’t even get me started on the texting, _lord_ the texting. I’ve never seen someone so glued to their phone screen as you are when--”

“Okay! Alright, I get it,” Charity stopped her, unable to bear another second of humiliation. “So I might have a… _slight_ crush,” she muttered reluctantly. “Slight! It doesn’t mean anything, though! She’s just sweet and she’s good with the girls and she’s so… _pretty._ Like, there are pretty people and then there’s her, does that make sense? Oh, my gosh, and you should see her perform, _ah!_ It’s so incredible, Lettie, truly…” She trailed off when she realized she was completely and entirely raving about the younger woman and doing the exact opposite of convincing her friend of her so-called ‘slight’ crush.

“Right,” Lettie said simply, a shit-eating grin plastered across her features.

“Damn it,” Charity cursed, folding her arms across her chest with a defeated sigh. “Shut up.”

Lettie laughed heartily at her childlike reaction. "Well, if you don't want her to know, you better wipe that lovestruck look off your face." She gestured towards a bright red Mini Cooper that was sitting where Charity's car was usually parked. The blonde felt all color draining from her face. Anne. Anne was here. Lettie chuckled, "Uh huh, that's about what I thought. Though, personally, I say go get her, tiger. Lord knows you could use some after all this." She said the last part under her breath but loud enough to cause Charity to glower at her. Her annoyance was short-lived, though, as she turned back to the situation at hand. She took a deep, steadying breath but didn’t move, just staring at the vehicle in front of her.

“Y’know this typically works better if you actually get _out_ of the car,” Lettie pointed out, far too amused with her friend’s current suffering.

Charity let out a shaky exhale and gripped the door handle. “Right,” she said, weakly. Was that her voice? That squeak? Yikes. “Okay, I’m going.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” the older woman said, laughing again. “I’ll meet you back at the hospital when you inevitably go into cardiac arrest over this.”

Charity sobered a bit at this, remembering what exactly had brought them here in the first place. She turned to Lettie with a genuine expression of gratitude. “Thank you, for tonight. Thank you for everything, really. I don’t know where I’d be without you. You’re one of the most important people in the world to me, Lettie, I hope you know that. I appreciate you more than you could ever know.” She reached out and grasped her friend’s hand warmly, giving it a squeeze.

Lettie stared dumbfounded back at her for a moment before shaking her head and clearing her throat. “Quit stalling, you dork,” she said, her voice thicker than it had been a moment before. She turned back to Charity with a proud smile. “Go get your girl.”

Charity took a final, big breath and tugged on the door handle with purpose. Her muscles groaned as she stepped out of the car and made her way toward the front of the house. She sent Lettie a final wave as the Cadillac pulled out onto the street and drove away. 

After ascending the few steps onto her front porch, Charity dug her keys out of her bag, grateful that the lights had been left on. Her heart hammered against her ribcage as she turned the key to unlock the deadbolt. The entryway was dark when she stepped inside, the only light coming from the TV at the top of the stairs and a small night light her mother had bought for Caroline that was plugged in beside the front door. She turned around in the dim space, dropping her bag lightly by the door, and stopped in her tracks.

Anne sat before her, curled up in a crumpled ball on the stairs, her hair falling messily around her face as she leaned against the wall. Charity recognized her own blanket wrapped loosely around the girl’s shoulders. Her eyes were closed and her lips were slightly parted as she dozed. The blonde gingerly shut the door behind her and latched the lock, trying her best to keep from waking the snoozing girl in front of her.

Her attempts were unsuccessful, however, as Anne stirred from her place on the steps. She sucked in a deep breath and her eyes fluttered open. She pushed her lips out in a half-asleep pout as she tried to gain bearing on her surroundings and Charity thought it was quite possibly the greatest thing she had ever witnessed. That is, until the younger girl finally managed to realize where she was and what-- or rather _who_ had woken her up. _That_ expression, the face of recognition and look of relief, was the most wonderful thing Charity had ever seen.

Anne’s eyes flew wide when she saw Charity. She let the blanket fall from her shoulders as she pushed herself abruptly to her feet. Everything the woman did was the very definition of grace, so watching her practically throw herself down the stairs in a mess of legs and curls was a sight to behold. 

All at once, Charity forgot what it meant to breathe as Anne crashed full-force into her body and pressed their lips together without a moment’s hesitation. Their rather significant height difference was forgotten as Anne cradled her hands around the back of Charity’s neck and twisted her long fingers into blonde hair.

The world suddenly made sense. All that Charity could feel and breathe and taste was _Anne_. She inhaled her sweet, earthy aroma, grasped tightly at her lean waist, and relished in the feeling of soft lips against her own. An overwhelming feeling of completeness washed over her as she sighed into the kiss, curling her arms up and around the backs of Anne’s shoulders, reaching one up to cup the taller woman’s cheek.

Just as quickly as it began, the warmth disappeared. Charity opened her eyes and was met with Anne’s concerned gaze still inches from her face.

“I’m sorry, oh my god, are you okay?” Anne began to fuss and worry, anxiety leaching from her tone as she eyed the laceration on Charity’s cheekbone. “You’re hurt, am I hurting you? I’m so sorry, I was just so worried and you’re okay and you’re _here_ and--”

Charity cut her panic off with another kiss, softer this time, to calm her. She held Anne’s face gently in her palms, running her thumbs over the smooth skin there. She pulled back after a second, just enough to let air pass between them.

“I’m fine,” Charity assured her quietly, her voice not entirely convincing but Anne seemed to buy it regardless, putting a bit more space between them. She placed her hands delicately on Charity’s shoulders and shifted her heavy gaze back and forth between the blonde’s eyes.

“Don’t you _ever_ scare me like that again, Charity Barnum,” she said after a beat. The blonde melted back into her arms, immersing herself entirely in Anne’s embrace. It was rapidly beginning to feel like home there.

* * *

Charity leaned against the doorway into the gym, watching Anne stack mats against the back wall. A sense of déjà vu flooded around her as she was brought back to this place, weeks prior, where she’d first seen the girl doing exactly this. She chuckled at the memory.

The noise drew Anne’s attention across the room. Her face split into her usual dazzling smile when she saw Charity. The blonde’s pulse quickened, still feeling a bit of shock at the knowledge that that smile was for _her._

“Hey you,” Anne said as she approached the shorter woman, unable to hide the bounce in her step. 

“Hey yourself,” Charity replied, stepping to throw her arms around Anne’s waist. She didn’t miss the flush of color that spread across the other woman’s cheeks at the casual but intimate gesture.

“So,” Anne drawled, trying and failing to mask the nerves in her tone, “the girls are with W.D. Any chance you wanna get a drink with me, Ms. Barnum?”

“Something tells me you had this planned, Ms. Wheeler.”

“And if I did?” Warm brown eyes twinkled, mischief unmistakable behind them. “Can’t I plan to take a beautiful woman out on the town? It’s not every day I get the opportunity to have someone like you on my arm. I plan to take advantage of you when I can.” Her smirk made Charity’s knees feel weak.

“I don’t think it’s taking advantage if I let you do whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want, huh.” She cocked an eyebrow and Charity shivered.

“If you want. But what I want right now is that date with you and… ” She stood up on her tiptoes, about to kiss the other woman when the speakers crackled to life around them. Their eyes met in confusion for only a second before a familiar tune hit their ears.

“ _There you see her_

_Sitting there across the way_

_She don’t got a lot to say but there’s something about her”_

Anne’s face flashed between about sixty different expressions ranging from mortification to shock to annoyance before finally settling on the most terrifying (read: adorable) look of pure, unadulterated rage that Charity had ever laid eyes on.

“ _And you don’t know why_

_But you’re dying to try_

_You wanna kiss the girl”_

Charity called upon every last ounce of power she possessed to keep herself from laughing as Anne unceremoniously erupted into shrieks.

“Wilson Dwayne Wheeler! I swear to god, if I catch you, you’re _dead_!” Anne’s voice echoed through the building.. 

There was the sound of low pitched laughter and two sets of giggles and running feet that came from the office. The music, however, did not stop.

Anne growled in frustration and moved to follow the retreating footsteps in her fit of terror but Charity had other plans. She reached out and took the younger woman’s wrist in her fingers, halting her movements and tugging her back into her.

“You could track them down and murder your brother, or…” She craned her neck up again, this time successfully connecting their lips and she could feel the second Anne’s sibling death plot became a thing of the past as she relaxed against her. The girl in question let loose a contented sigh and coiled her arms around Charity’s neck, the music around them blurring into nothing but white noise as their worlds narrowed to only each other.

Charity pulled back, breathless and smiled up at Anne. “Now, about those drinks,” she said, an impish grin taking up residence on her face, “would it be any place that might require those lovely fishnet tights of yours?”

“It definitely can be if you want it to be.” She swallowed visibly. “Somewhere in that wardrobe of yours, do you have anything suitable for a punk bar?”

Charity’s lips curled up in a smirk. “I think I might have just the thing. And yes, Anne, if you’re wondering, it’s leather.” She tugged Anne forward, towards the car.

“How much leather,” Anne squeaked, feeling her cheeks heat up faster than a jet engine (not that they ever cooled down from before).

“Oh, not a lot really,” she mused, “but also it’s all leather, if you catch my meaning,” now it was her turn to snicker and send a wicked smirk over her shoulder directly at Anne. 

The gymnast gulped audibly. “Somehow, some way, I think you might be the death of me, Charity.”

“Same to you, darling. But what a way to go.”


End file.
